Last Conscious Thought
by silas-the-fangirl
Summary: Chuck is dying on the street in Prague. Will he live or will the Devil demand satisfaction? Drabble mainly. No real plot. ONE-SHOT! R/R


**Just a quick one shot, mostly me just dithering on. Don't we all love drabble? This is mainly for the C/B shippers out there who didn't like to finale of season 3. Personally, I just finished watching it two hours ago. And I just needed to write a happy ending. Well, it stays true to what happened in the final scene, but well, just read it. Cause I'm of to bed to possibly cry my heart out!**

It was cold. So cold. But he didn't have the energy to shiver, only enough energy to close his eyes and give into the throb of pain in his stomach. Because it dulled to pain of his heart. Through his coat he could feel the cobbled stone alley, each sharp individual rock sticking into his side, adding to the pain of losing everything. As the numbing felling began to take over, his last conscious thought was '_... I'm going to die, alone, in an alley'._

His eyes closed and his breaths where numbered. But he didn't see the bright light. There was no free picture show of his unhappy childhood, his corruption at a youthful age of 13, his empty adolescence and his few last months of pure self loathing. He never saw how happy she made him in the months beforehand, but he would hold them close, even if he didn't know it.

The streets had cleared out; all cheap whores had left and found their drunken one night stand lovers for that evening. Any hope of survival now he had to rest in faith. Faith that someone would happen across his dying body, and that that person who would have saved his life be a gift from God. He wouldn't know though, he had never felt loved or fulfilled by his drinking, drugs and random sex. He didn't know how to love something greater than himself, but then she came along. But he had been lead to believe that God was a greater love. A love hat he rejected. So why would God save him?

Why would God save a boy, recently turned man, from his ever coming demise, his decent to hell and everlasting pain. Pain that he was ever so deserving of, that he had earned over his few years on Gods Earth?

Everything was warm. So deliciously warm. Every finger, every toe, every joint in his body every fleck of skin on his being. He was warm inside out. Every dark, cold thought from the previous... he didn't know how much time had passed. But if this was hell, it was comfortable. _'Maybe the Devil gives better rooms to the worst offenders.'_ He thought.

Something brushed against his arm, his eyes twitched; they wanted to open on their own accord. But alas he knew that if he opened his eyes for a second; that would be it. His fate would be sealed at the right hand of the Devil. Hell, he'd done enough to get him the seat. Another brush, this time on his face. He hadn't been on the Mary-J, so he wasn't paranoid. The weed hadn't finally sent him to schizophrenia. Or had it? Could he really hear this ever buzzing repetitive noise just to his right?

He had heard it before, living in New York and him being who he was, he had heard everything.

The sound was an ever persistent throb in his mind. _'Just get it to shut the hell up.'_ He screamed in his mind. Praying that someone would hear him. He had to think, what was that sound? It had something to do with vehicles. But not the plush limo's he was accustom to. A few broken words entered his mind, _'Emergencies. Police. Think man, think' _He urged himself_, 'fire, crime and health. What did all of these things have in common?'_ the sudden sound of the sirens in his ears made him open his eyes.

Above him there was the roof of the alley, and three medical staff staring back at him, well he assumed they where medical from their white crosses on their green coats. As his mind began to process what ordeal he had been through there was a burning sensation deep in his stomach. Everything came back in a sudden rush. Walking the back blocks of Prague, giving his greetings to the ladies of the night, being held up, mugged. Begging them not to take...

He closed his eyes and felt the tears slowly creep down his face. Under normal circumstances, he would never show such weakness. But they had taken the ring. Not just a ring, THE ring. The ring that was meant to cement together his future and hers. The ring that he had shopped for, trying to find one that would match her beauty and finding none. Going to everywhere to find the right one. But there wasn't one, and he had settled for the best that could be found. But even though it would have never added up, he knew that she would have loved it anyway. The ring was gone now. Probably at the closest pawn shop.

So for now, he could do nothing. He would have to bide his time and pray that once they let him go that the ring would be at a pawn shop, in the front display with a ridiculously high price that only he could afford. But first he needed to be saved. As the medical staff looked over him, pressing a needle into his skin and pulling him from the misery of his thoughts and into a haze of chemicals they looked at each other and nodded. They could move him to a hospital.

Chucks last clear conscious thought was _'I'm not going to die, alone, in an alley. I'm going to die, happy, of old age. With Blair by my side.' _He took a final breath and fell head first into the welcoming darkness.

**So like I said, just drabble and I don't actually like this. But review and let me know what you thought!**


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